


I'd rather watch my kingdom fall

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Character Death, M/M, Off-screen death but still, Poisoning, Pseudo-History
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 19:17:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: Lucas' only chance to save his kingdom is to poison the enemy King. But the King brings a food taster that Lucas knows.





	I'd rather watch my kingdom fall

**Author's Note:**

> I dare to call this a historical!AU despite it not depicting any historical event.
> 
> The choice of Florentino as the villain was obvious, I think.

Lucas wishes he could escape from his shame, but although nobody speaks of it, he sees and hears it everywhere. In the somber faces of his courtiers. In the unusual silence of the lower castle. Everyone knows he’s about to sell them, sell their freedom for a promise of peace. Some say he’s too young and weak to rule. They may be right, but even older and stronger rulers fell victim to their neighbor, constantly expanding and conquering, swallowing the small kingdoms and duchies. Lucas can’t fight, can’t wage war on an enemy this strong. Can’t let them burn his beautiful country down. He knew it long before the Council agreed on it, long before they asked him to seek peace with the enemy, with lowered eyes and strained voices. He supposes asking your king to bend his knee to another hurts. Him, it doesn’t hurt that much. He values his pride much less than his subjects value it.

The long table is set only for the two of them. Lucas had it brought to the dining room instead of the round table that usually hosted him and his friends. He’s not about to have dinner with a friend, and the more distance and wood is separating them, the better. He looks at the damask tablecloth, the best porcelain and the flowers in the vase and feels strangely numb. Almost like none of it belongs to him anymore.

He remains standing when King Florentino walks in, because they are still equals. Things could change soon, but he’s ready to stand his ground as long as he can.

Then he notices who is trailing behind the King, and regrets not having sat down earlier, because his knees threaten to give in under him.

“Toni,” he whispers.

“Oh, I thought you’d like to see your old friend,” the King smirks. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing him, Majesty.”

Lucas can’t answer, but luckily it wasn’t really a question. He’s just looking at Toni with immense sadness. Their fathers had been friends, and the two of them practically grew up together. Toni was his wiser friend, or the older brother he never had, and later more than a brother. The two of them were the promise of bright future for both their lands. Until King Florentino rose to power.

Toni’s father didn’t sell his people. He fought the war. And lost. Both his life and his people’s freedom, and as Lucas can see now, even his son’s freedom.

Seeing him like this makes Lucas’ heart ache. And it’s not because he’s maybe looking at his own future.

“Well?” King Florentino looks at him questioningly, taking his place behind the set table. Toni remains standing behind his chair, eyes lowered, like he can’t bear looking at Lucas. “I thought you invited me for a dinner, and we are still looking at empty plates. Is your kingdom already that poor?”

“My excuses,” Lucas says and gestures to the servants to bring the first course.

The King looks at the small serving of toasted bread with pâté and quail eggs, arranged artfully on the plate, and smiles contentedly.

“It looks exquisite,” he says, laying the napkin in his lap.

Then he picks up the plate and holds it up to Toni, who picks up a piece and slides it into his mouth without hesitation.

“I’m amazed you don’t keep food tasters,” the King says, seeing Lucas’ shocked expression. “Though I doubt one of your own people would want to poison you. But a King has to be careful. And your old friend told me you wouldn’t hurt him, so I thought - no better food taster for this event. Although he’s already quite skilled in the job, after all those years.”

Lucas doesn’t say anything. He can’t speak. He can only stare at the pitcher of wine the servant is holding.

The servant by his side pours wine in his chalice, and for a moment, Lucas has hope that him drinking it as well will be enough for Florentino to feel safe. But it’s a different pitcher, a different chalice, and poison can be hidden anywhere.

When Toni lifts the chalice to his lips, every fiber of his body wants to jump over the table and stop him. But he doesn’t. Something makes him hold his tongue and sit tight. Responsibility, perhaps. He’s doing this for his people’s freedom. And his own.

Toni puts the chalice back on the table and wipes the place his lips touched with a napkin before stepping back. The King waits in silence. Lucas doesn’t move. He knows nothing will happen. He is not stupid, or rather his alchemist isn’t. Without a doubt, Maestro Solari anticipated this situation and chose a slow-acting poison. After a while, Florentino motions for the servant to pour the wine in his chalice, and picks it up.

“To peace, then,” he says.

Lucas feels like the chalice weighs a ton when he lifts it up and sips on the wine. He suddenly wishes the poison was in his chalice. He doesn’t even know why he chose this way - a woman’s weapon, the sneakiest way to murder, and one of the worst ways to die.

The servants bring the main course, roasted veal with rich sauce and roasted vegetables that smells just heavenly, but Lucas barely eats a piece. Florentino, on the other hand, safe as he feels now, doesn’t hold himself back.

“I’ll remember your hospitality,” Florentino says when a lovely piece of cake covered in white fondant lands in front of him. “You are a reasonable man. I was a bit worried you would be like them fools, thinking you could defeat me. But sparing the lives of innocent people and keeping the land intact is what matters here, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Lucas says. “That’s what I intend to do.”

“It’s my intent as well, trust me,” Florentino says, drinking more wine. “And given that you are willing to hand it over to me, you shall not perish like the other fools… or their sons.”

Lucas’ eyes flicker to Toni, but his face is as unreadable as before. Florentino hands him the plate with the last course, a piece of matured cheese with fresh figs, and then sends him away with one flick of his hand. Lucas’ heart beats too fast now.

“Would you like to rejoin your party?” he asks Florentino when the servants bring them bowls of water with slices of lemon and mint leaves to wash their hands in. “I had arranged for them to dine in the great hall, and for my artists to keep them entertained.”

“In case there are pretty dancers, I will gladly rejoin them,” Florentino grins.

“I believe you will find them satisfying,” Lucas says and beckons the guards to open the double door leading to the great hall. A booming noise of music and laughter hits him, and for a moment he wishes he didn’t choose poison. He wishes he had chosen to close them all in that room and set it on fire.

As soon as he’s sure Florentino will having enough fun without feeling the need to taunt him, he runs out, leaving behind the servants meticulously cleaning the dining room of any possible evidence.

He finds Toni in the kitchen, near the large tiled stove. It was their little hideout when they were children. Somehow he knew this was the place Toni would choose to hide in.

“Toni,” he whispers.

It’s strange to see him like this, in plain clothes. Nobody even thought it strange for him to be in the kitchen, he blended in with the servants perfectly.

“The wine was poisoned,” Toni says when Lucas sits on the wooden bench next to him. “I could taste the poison there. A bit too sweet.”

“And you said nothing?” Lucas whispers.

Toni shakes his head and looks at him. “It could save you,” he says. “Your freedom.”

Lucas closes his eyes. “You wanted to save me. You told him I wouldn’t hurt you… you knew I would do it.”

“I knew you wouldn’t just surrender,” Toni says. “You’re a fighter. And it was a clever plan.”

“Clever?” Lucas asks. “If it would cost you your life?”

“You couldn’t have known,” Toni says calmly. “And my life? The war cost me my life, not your poison. This is hardly a life.”

Lucas throws his arms around him and just holds him, relishing the moment he thought would never come again. He thought he had lost him forever when Toni’s kingdom fell.

When he pulls back, he reaches in his pocket and hands Toni a small vial. Toni gives him a surprised look. “I thought there wasn’t an antidote to this poison.”

“Until recently, there wasn’t,” Lucas nods. “But Maestro Solari is a clever man. And he thought I could have been obliged to drink the wine as well, if Florentino was too mistrustful.”

Toni takes the vial from him. Lucas nods encouragingly and watches him uncork it and lift it to his lips. He winces slightly at the bitter taste.

“What will happen when he dies, though?” he whispers. “They will know…”

“They will not,” Lucas smiles. “How could they? He had a food taster. If I poisoned him, wouldn’t the food taster die as well?”

For the first time now, Toni smiles. “I always knew you were clever,” he whispers.

“We had the same teachers, remember,” Lucas laughs.

Above their heads, a commotion starts, with fast footsteps and panicked voices, but they couldn’t care less.


End file.
